DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, okay?! She's the witch who
cast the spell, I'm just a spellbound being saying hello to the webs of her
spell. So don't sue me. I am an innocent fan.
2 Library Encounter
"I'm going over to the library, okay? I need some studying time alone
without you and your crazy chess. I'll see you guys later." Harry and
Ron both waved, neither looking up from their chess game.
"Bye Hermione!"
"Tell of us if you get any tips about how to do the potions homework!
See ya!"
An armful of books in her arms, Hermione stepped out of the Gryffindor
common room, and walked to the library. Plopping her large pile of
thick books on the desk, she took out a piece of parchment, and
opening up her transfiguration book, began to work on the assignment
that was due the next day. Her brow furrowed slightly, eyes never
blinking, head bent down, mouth moving in mutters, quill scribbling
across the page furiously, she truly appeared to be the studious high-
standard girl everyone saw her to be.
~~*~~
Malfoy sighed, smoothing back a lock of slickly gelled hair.
This transfiguration class is such a bother. He was thankful for the
impending evening. No one ever came around the library at this time,
because everyone was in their common rooms squeezing in free time
before dinner. No one would be around except prefects, and he was one,
and besides, none of the other prefects talked to him anyway. It would
be embarrassing if anyone saw him in this state, tired, studying, and
flustered. He'd been having a bad day ever since that morning with the
envelope.
Speaking of the envelope, what had been in it?
Brushing away this distracting thought, he yawned, and stretched out
back against his chair, his muscles loosening from their previous
exhaustion. He pulled back, however, when his hand hit up against
something. And it wasn't a chair either. Who could be.?
He slowly turned around, eyes narrowing. Someone else was studying?
Oh.
Of course.
Granger.
~~*~~
Hermione jumped, dropping her Sugar Quill, as suddenly she felt a hand
land on her shoulder, fingertips grazing her skin. It had been a long
time since she had worn her robes entirely covering everything but her
neck and face, because the weather was warming, and with almost
everyone getting ready for Parent Visitation and a school vacation
coming up soon, she wasn't embarrassed to be seen wearing muggle
clothes and a Hogwarts cloak. She became self-conscious about wearing
a tank top and jean-material skirt, however, as she realized she was
not alone in what she had thought to be her sanctuary.
Slowly turning her head, she gazed up towards a pair of steel grey-
blue eyes, slick gelled-back blonde hair, and a disapproving slight
frown. "Malfoy," she asked, her tone of voice not showing her surprise
and slight irritation, "What are you doing here? And why?" She became
very aware of his hand still on her shoulder. How long had it been
since anyone's skin touched hers? His hand was cold.
"I could ask you the same thing, Granger. Aren't your parents visiting
today?" She bristled slightly, as his tone of voice on the word 'your'
and 'parents" spoke clearly that he mocked her, since she was muggle-
born.
"Why no, Malfoy, in fact, they are not. Don't you know that muggles
aren't allowed in Hogwarts? There is an illusion hiding the castle
from all muggle eyes. There's no way any muggles could get in here,
parents of students, or not." Draco, apparently, had nothing to say
about this, although a flicker of annoyance did flare in his gaze
momentarily.
Hermione pointed her Sugar Quill at him accusingly, saying, "And what
about you, Malfoy? Aren't you going to show off your parents to us
unworthy muggle-born; won't you show us how alike you are to your
great, powerful, Pureblood father?"
Her satisfaction of having come up with a sarcastic comeback was cut
off, as suddenly, his hand gripped her shoulder tightly, and she was
swung out of her chair. He slammed her against the wall, hard. She
gasped for breath as Draco's cold, thin hands grasped her throat.
"Don't talk to me like that; you don't know anything about how I feel
or about my father." He gave her a vicious push back, making her hit
her head against the wall. "Don't. You. Ever. Dare. Speak. About my
father. Ever. Again. And if you ever compare me to him again you'll
find your throat cut in the middle of the night! You. you bloody arse-
headed fool!"
Hermione wondered, through her pain, why he was so touchy about the
subject. Longing for breath, she managed to gasp between choked
breaths, "You do know.That.you're touching a Mudblood, right? Aren't
you afraid of touching dirty skin?"
His voice coming out in a hiss, he replied, "If it was your skin that
was contaminated, I wouldn't be calling you Mudblood, now would I,
Granger?"
Hearing this did not make Hermione feel any better. In fact, she was
getting angry now. Just as she was beginning to consider kneeing him
where the sun doesn't shine, his hands slid slowly from her neck.
Gasping for breath, she watched and listened, as he turned around,
saying, "Promise me never to talk about my family and me ever again,
and especially my father, than I promise not to call you Mudblood
anymore." Here he turned back, his glare so menacing, lip curled
maliciously, eyes filled with such anger and hatred, that Hermione
barely repressed a shiver. "However, Granger," his voice, once more in
the snarling drawl instead of angry hiss, dripped with implied
violence, "You may insult me as much as you want. BUT, never behind my
back. You can rage and blaspheme me to my face as much as you want,
but never, ever insult a Malfoy behind his back."
With that said, Malfoy briskly walked away, his silent steps echoing
the blankness Hermione felt.
~~*~~
Hermione had been sitting, slumped against the library wall, for a
long time. She had been thinking over and over about every word Malfoy
had said to her. It was by far the longest and most dreadful
conversation she had ever had with him. He had actually managed to
frighten her, when he shoved her against the wall, choking her. Her
throat hurt still, even now. She hadn't known Malfoy was so strong.
His body was lean, and he was graceful, like a cat. And he always
seemed to do his bullying verbally, rather than physically. But his
hands had so harshly grasped at her like a noose being tightened
around her neck. And she had felt his strength, the force of his
muscles, through his arms. Where had he become so suddenly strong?
What a mystery they all were, the Malfoys.
Smiling grimly, Hermione made her decision, once and for all. Malfoy's
vicious defense for his father, his unusual demeanor upon delivering
the envelope this morning, and the fact that he had been studying,
plus all the rumors and implications around the Malfoys, made her
curious. Usually she would back off from such a challenge, but, her
being older now, and Gryffindor prefect, she believed it was okay to
turn some new leaves over in her life. Jaw set, she marched toward a
bookshelf, determined to find all possible information about the
Malfoy family. Especially Draco.
2 Library Encounter
"I'm going over to the library, okay? I need some studying time alone
without you and your crazy chess. I'll see you guys later." Harry and
Ron both waved, neither looking up from their chess game.
"Bye Hermione!"
"Tell of us if you get any tips about how to do the potions homework!
See ya!"
An armful of books in her arms, Hermione stepped out of the Gryffindor
common room, and walked to the library. Plopping her large pile of
thick books on the desk, she took out a piece of parchment, and
opening up her transfiguration book, began to work on the assignment
that was due the next day. Her brow furrowed slightly, eyes never
blinking, head bent down, mouth moving in mutters, quill scribbling
across the page furiously, she truly appeared to be the studious high-
standard girl everyone saw her to be.
~~*~~
Malfoy sighed, smoothing back a lock of slickly gelled hair.
This transfiguration class is such a bother. He was thankful for the
impending evening. No one ever came around the library at this time,
because everyone was in their common rooms squeezing in free time
before dinner. No one would be around except prefects, and he was one,
and besides, none of the other prefects talked to him anyway. It would
be embarrassing if anyone saw him in this state, tired, studying, and
flustered. He'd been having a bad day ever since that morning with the
envelope.
Speaking of the envelope, what had been in it?
Brushing away this distracting thought, he yawned, and stretched out
back against his chair, his muscles loosening from their previous
exhaustion. He pulled back, however, when his hand hit up against
something. And it wasn't a chair either. Who could be.?
He slowly turned around, eyes narrowing. Someone else was studying?
Oh.
Of course.
Granger.
~~*~~
Hermione jumped, dropping her Sugar Quill, as suddenly she felt a hand
land on her shoulder, fingertips grazing her skin. It had been a long
time since she had worn her robes entirely covering everything but her
neck and face, because the weather was warming, and with almost
everyone getting ready for Parent Visitation and a school vacation
coming up soon, she wasn't embarrassed to be seen wearing muggle
clothes and a Hogwarts cloak. She became self-conscious about wearing
a tank top and jean-material skirt, however, as she realized she was
not alone in what she had thought to be her sanctuary.
Slowly turning her head, she gazed up towards a pair of steel grey-
blue eyes, slick gelled-back blonde hair, and a disapproving slight
frown. "Malfoy," she asked, her tone of voice not showing her surprise
and slight irritation, "What are you doing here? And why?" She became
very aware of his hand still on her shoulder. How long had it been
since anyone's skin touched hers? His hand was cold.
"I could ask you the same thing, Granger. Aren't your parents visiting
today?" She bristled slightly, as his tone of voice on the word 'your'
and 'parents" spoke clearly that he mocked her, since she was muggle-
born.
"Why no, Malfoy, in fact, they are not. Don't you know that muggles
aren't allowed in Hogwarts? There is an illusion hiding the castle
from all muggle eyes. There's no way any muggles could get in here,
parents of students, or not." Draco, apparently, had nothing to say
about this, although a flicker of annoyance did flare in his gaze
momentarily.
Hermione pointed her Sugar Quill at him accusingly, saying, "And what
about you, Malfoy? Aren't you going to show off your parents to us
unworthy muggle-born; won't you show us how alike you are to your
great, powerful, Pureblood father?"
Her satisfaction of having come up with a sarcastic comeback was cut
off, as suddenly, his hand gripped her shoulder tightly, and she was
swung out of her chair. He slammed her against the wall, hard. She
gasped for breath as Draco's cold, thin hands grasped her throat.
"Don't talk to me like that; you don't know anything about how I feel
or about my father." He gave her a vicious push back, making her hit
her head against the wall. "Don't. You. Ever. Dare. Speak. About my
father. Ever. Again. And if you ever compare me to him again you'll
find your throat cut in the middle of the night! You. you bloody arse-
headed fool!"
Hermione wondered, through her pain, why he was so touchy about the
subject. Longing for breath, she managed to gasp between choked
breaths, "You do know.That.you're touching a Mudblood, right? Aren't
you afraid of touching dirty skin?"
His voice coming out in a hiss, he replied, "If it was your skin that
was contaminated, I wouldn't be calling you Mudblood, now would I,
Granger?"
Hearing this did not make Hermione feel any better. In fact, she was
getting angry now. Just as she was beginning to consider kneeing him
where the sun doesn't shine, his hands slid slowly from her neck.
Gasping for breath, she watched and listened, as he turned around,
saying, "Promise me never to talk about my family and me ever again,
and especially my father, than I promise not to call you Mudblood
anymore." Here he turned back, his glare so menacing, lip curled
maliciously, eyes filled with such anger and hatred, that Hermione
barely repressed a shiver. "However, Granger," his voice, once more in
the snarling drawl instead of angry hiss, dripped with implied
violence, "You may insult me as much as you want. BUT, never behind my
back. You can rage and blaspheme me to my face as much as you want,
but never, ever insult a Malfoy behind his back."
With that said, Malfoy briskly walked away, his silent steps echoing
the blankness Hermione felt.
~~*~~
Hermione had been sitting, slumped against the library wall, for a
long time. She had been thinking over and over about every word Malfoy
had said to her. It was by far the longest and most dreadful
conversation she had ever had with him. He had actually managed to
frighten her, when he shoved her against the wall, choking her. Her
throat hurt still, even now. She hadn't known Malfoy was so strong.
His body was lean, and he was graceful, like a cat. And he always
seemed to do his bullying verbally, rather than physically. But his
hands had so harshly grasped at her like a noose being tightened
around her neck. And she had felt his strength, the force of his
muscles, through his arms. Where had he become so suddenly strong?
What a mystery they all were, the Malfoys.
Smiling grimly, Hermione made her decision, once and for all. Malfoy's
vicious defense for his father, his unusual demeanor upon delivering
the envelope this morning, and the fact that he had been studying,
plus all the rumors and implications around the Malfoys, made her
curious. Usually she would back off from such a challenge, but, her
being older now, and Gryffindor prefect, she believed it was okay to
turn some new leaves over in her life. Jaw set, she marched toward a
bookshelf, determined to find all possible information about the
Malfoy family. Especially Draco.